


Worth It

by Morgan (morgan32)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Getting A Sense of Cliche, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-15
Updated: 2005-07-15
Packaged: 2017-10-02 02:25:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgan32/pseuds/Morgan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Any time you wake up with your mouth full of cloth and ropes around your wrists and ankles, you can be sure it's not going to be a good day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth It

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the ts_ficathons _Getting a Sense of Clichés_ challenge. My prompt:
> 
> Write a story using the cliché idea: "If we're going to die, then damn it, let's go out with a bang!" and using the sense: Smell.
> 
> It was meant to be a PWP but what do you know - a plot snuck in when I wasn't looking. The timeline isn't really important to this fic, but for those who like to know these things, the story is set several years after the series ended. Blair is a detective and works in Major Crimes as Jim's partner.

Any time you wake up with your mouth full of cloth and ropes around your wrists and ankles, you can be sure it's not going to be a good day.

Blair opened his eyes a crack and saw only blackness. There was a chill in the air that told him he was underground. He craned his neck to see above him and discovered light far above. As his eyes adjusted he could make out the sheer walls of the shaft above him. It was a stone shaft, with the kind of irregularities made by mining tools but not enough to leave handholds. Not that he was going anywhere right now.

He tried to sit up but was bound too securely. The best he could manage was a jerky movement against the rock. Flopping like a landed fish, Blair managed to turn around enough to look all about him. He was in a roughly round chamber at the base of a deep mine shaft. In one direction a dark tunnel led away from him. He saw no light at all from there.

He was awake, so the air was probably okay. That was a good start. Blair felt for the knots at his wrists and began his long, futile attempt to escape.

*

An endless time later, Blair's captors cast a rope into the mine shaft. Blair heard the slither of the rope falling above him. Ignoring the pain in his wrists, Blair turned toward the shaft. He saw the light disappear, blocked by the figure of a man descending into the shaft. He closed his eyes, bracing himself for a possible fight. This might be his only chance to get out of here.

He didn't know how long he had been here. More than a day...less than a week. He remembered them taking him in the parking lot: a hood shoved over his head, the sting of a needle in his thigh. He didn't know if it was just him or if they'd taken Jim, too. He didn't know _why_ they'd taken him. No one asked him any questions, they just threw him in a cage and then knocked him out with some sort of drug and he woke up down here.

Blair's wrists were agony where the rope was biting into his flesh. He could feel something sticky and liquid around the ropes: blood or sweat, he didn't know. His hair was damp with sweat, clinging to his face and neck. The gag that filled his mouth was wet, too. Disgusting.

It took a long time for the man to descend. When he eventually reached the bottom, there was a moment of silence. Blair held his body motionless but inside he was coiled tight as a spring.

"Chief, can you hear me?"

Blair had never been so happy to hear anyone's voice. He tried to answer but with the gag still tight the best he could manage was, "Imph!"

"I guess that means yes." Jim knelt beside him and reached beneath Blair's damp curls. Gently he loosened the gag and pulled it away from Blair's mouth.

"Jim! Oh, god, Jim, you're here!"

"Easy, Chief. Relax, let's get these ropes off you."

It wasn't easy to relax. Blair waited impatiently as Jim's sensitive fingertips traced down his arm to his wrist. "Jim, untie me already! You can feel me up later!"

"Promise?" Jim chuckled, the laughter out of place but welcome. He found the knot in the ropes and drew in a sharp breath. "Sandburg, you're bleeding."

"I know. Jim, please...ouch!" He yelped as the rope tightened suddenly.

"Sorry, Chief. This is going to take a while."

Blair tried to relax, to make it easier for Jim. A distraction would help. "Jim," he began, speaking through gritted teeth, "what's going on? How did you find me?"

He felt Jim hesitate. "We paid the ransom."

"Ransom! I'm not worth money!"

"They didn't want money, Chief. I made the exchange and they led me down here to find you." The ropes finally loosened and fell away. "There, got it!"

"Oh, man..." Blair moved his arms in relief. The muscles were cramped from being too long in one position. A moan escaped him as the circulation began to return.

Jim helped him to sit up and began to rub Blair's arms and shoulders. "You'll be okay..." He froze suddenly.

"What?"

"They're pulling up the rope."

"They're double-crossing you!"

"Us. And, yeah, but I knew they would. Let's get these ropes off you and I'll explain." He ran a knowing hand down Blair's leg to the ropes at his ankles.

Blair found Jim's willingness to play reassuring. If Jim was relaxed enough to touch him like that, then they couldn't be in too much danger. "Enough with the cryptic, man. What's going on?"

Jim began to work on the next knots. "We got the ransom demand two days ago. I didn't believe they'd release you alive, whether we paid the ransom or not, but we had no better leads. So I insisted on making the delivery personally. They agreed to bring me to you. I was supposed to untie you, then we'd both climb out." He undid the knot and pulled the ropes away from Blair's ankles.

The ankles hurt less than his wrists. Blair drew his legs up to his chest. "So now we're both trapped. Great plan, man. Great plan."

"The plan's going fine. We're alive, aren't we?" Jim settled down beside Blair, laying an arm across his shoulders.

"Yeah. Alive in a hole in the ground with no way to get out."

"I've got a GPS transmitter in my belt. We should have company in about six hours."

"Why so long?"

"To make them think they've got away with it. In exchange for you, they wanted the cocaine we confiscated in last week's raids."

Blair swallowed. "And you _gave_ it to them?" He heard his voice slide up an octave.

"We handed it over so we could track it." Jim chuckled. "Chief, it is dark down here but I can still see the expression on your face."

"That was three million dollars worth of coke. What do you expect me to look like? Man, there's no way you should have done this!"

"I agree, but the Feds made the call, Sandburg. How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay. A little light-headed, maybe."

"Did you hit your head?"

"No..." Blair felt Jim's fingers exploring his head anyway. "They injected me with something. I thought it had worn off, but I'm still a bit foggy."

"What did they give you?"

"Not a clue, man."

"Sedative?"

"I think so." Blair looked up at his partner. "So, what now? We just sit here and wait for someone to rescue us?"

Jim took a deep breath and settled down beside Blair. "Yep. The extraction team is due in...five hours and fifty minutes."

Blair snuggled close to Jim's warmth. He wasn't good at waiting but Jim's company was incredibly welcome. He wasn't sure how long he'd been missing but it was at least two nights. To have Jim all to himself - even if they were in a life-threatening situation - was like a reward.

They so rarely had time to just be together any more. There was always something to interrupt their R and R, ever since Blair officially joined Major Crimes as Jim's partner - a real detective. It had been a long struggle to reach that goal, but worth every moment. They made a great team and Blair was happy knowing they were doing good, worthwhile work. But maybe they were a little too good. Simon did tend to throw the most challenging cases their way. It was hell on their sex life.

For nearly four months they had been tracking the same gang. Gun smuggling, cocaine, diamonds and industrial espionage: you name it, if there was a few million to be made from it, this gang were involved.

Including kidnapping, Blair thought, rubbing his wrists ruefully.

"Pain, Chief?"

Humiliation was more like it. "You guys gave up three million in cocaine to get me out of here. That kinda hurts, Jim. I'm not worth that."

"You are to me," Jim answered, quietly determined. Jim's hand squeezed his shoulder. "Stay quiet now, Sandburg. I need to monitor what's going on up there."

*

Jim looked up, his right arm still wrapped around Blair's shoulders. It was such a relief just to know he was alive. When Blair went missing Jim didn't immediately connect it to their ongoing investigation. Then the ransom demand came, and Jim had no other way to find Blair. At the PD he opposed this plan not because he didn't want Blair rescued (of _course_ he did!)but because he'd been hunting his gang for months and knew how ruthless they could be. Jim believed that if they appeared willing to co-operate Blair's kidnappers might just give back a body.

He felt Blair snuggle close and realised he must be cold. He held him closer. Blair was alive and, for the moment, safe.

To Jim's sentinel vision, the sliver of light above them was very bright. The mine shaft was rugged rock. Jim remembered climbing cliff faces smoother than this back in his army days, but that was with specialised equipment and a team backing him up. With not even a rope, he couldn't risk the climb. He knew he'd never make it.

It was only what he expected to see, and confirmed what he'd already told Simon and the Feds who were running this op: that the safest option would be to stay put and wait for the team to extract them.

Jim let his sight direct his other senses. He had to dial down his sense of touch because Sandburg's hair tickling his neck was much too distracting. The rest he sent upwards.

The gang were abandoning this base. Jim heard an engine idling, smelled the gas burning and tasted the smoke. The engine needed tuning: that might be something he could follow when they got out of here. He could hear men loading up the vehicle. Jim listened carefully to their conversations but learned little of interest. He zeroed in on two men, one of them the leader of the gang.

"Jim. Jim, don't zone on me, man."

Blair's thunderous whisper brought his attention back to Blair at a bad moment. "I'm not. I'm listening," Jim whispered back. He had to concentrate to get the conversation back.

_"...those two cops?"_

_"Fuck 'em. They can rot down there for all I care."_

_"I'll take care of them. Go on, I'll meet you at the truck."_

Shit!

"Blair, can you walk?"

"What? Walk where?"

Jim was already scrambling to his feet. "There's only one place we can go: into that tunnel." He reached for Blair. "Hurry!"

Thankfully Blair didn't question him further but he hesitated at the tunnel mouth, looking back to Jim. Jim, still gazing upward, saw the shadow of a figure, and saw what the figure was holding. It was enough.

Jim headed for the tunnel. "Chief, move!" He grabbed Blair's arm, forcing him to follow. Blair stumbled as they ran and Jim cursed silently, realising too late that what was dark-but-visible to him must be pitch black to Blair's normal sight. He was counting seconds.

"It's alright, Sandburg, just hold on to me. I can see just fine."

"What's going on?" Blair demanded even as he obeyed, gripping Jim's arm tightly.

"Bomb."

Jim led them deeper into the blackness, mentally counting seconds. It would either blow on impact, or... He shoved Blair to the ground and dived after him, hitting the ground, protecting his head with his arms as he tried to see behind them.

The explosion was deafening. A fireball erupted, blinding Jim. Flame seared toward them, sucking the oxygen from the air. A second explosion followed, stealing breath and shaking the earth that surrounded them.

The mine had never been all that stable and the explosions destroyed the last of the supports. Rock rained down around them and Jim lay there helplessly as their only escape was cut off by falling debris.

*

When it was over, Jim's first thought was of Blair.

The iron smell of blood filled his senses. Jim had to move his hand only a little to encounter the soft fabric of Blair's shirt. A little further and his hand found warm flesh, an arm, a wrist a pulse. Relieved, Jim began to rise, shaking dust from his hair and feeling debris roll off his back and legs.

"Sandburg?"

"I'm...here."

"I can smell blood. Are you hurt?"

"Uh...yeah. Jim, can you see anything?"

Jim couldn't see anything at all. Was he still blind from the explosion or was the darkness in here so complete even his sentinel vision was useless? His ears were still ringing, leaving his hearing functioning, but only at a "normal" level - a long way from normal for Jim.

He checked his own body quickly. He could move. There was some pain but nothing worse than bruises. He kicked his legs to get rid of the last rubble covering him and crawled to Blair's side.

"How badly are  you hurt?"

"It's my leg. I...hit my knee on something. I think it's broken. I'm trapped."

That didn't explain the smell of blood. "Okay. Lie still, Chief, I'll see what I can do." Jim settled himself in a kneeling position and found Blair's body by touch. He found a large rock covering Blair's leg above the knee. "Brace yourself, Chief. This is going to hurt." He ran his hands over the rock, got a firm hold underneath and lifted it upward and away from Blair's body. Blair moaned in pain. The damned thing didn't want to shift but eventually he felt it move and shoved hard. Blair moaned again but the rock was gone. Jim heard it collide with smaller rocks as it rolled away. He froze for a moment, listening.

Remembering Blair, he turned his attention to his partner's injury. He felt his way to the knee. The denim was wet and torn. Jim brought one hand to his mouth briefly, confirming the wetness was blood. Blair's blood. Blair gasped as he gently probed the wound, but didn't tell him to stop.

"I can't tell if it's broken, Chief, but you're badly cut." He sighed, making a decision. "I'm going to drag you a bit further down the tunnel, okay?"

"Why?"

"I want to try shifting some of this rock, but I won't risk it falling on you. Just hold on, Chief." Jim positioned himself behind Blair, hooking his arms around Blair's chest. He pulled.

Blair screamed.

Immediately Jim stopped. He released Blair and sat down, cradling his shoulders. "I'm sorry."

"'S'okay." Blair was trembling in Jim's arms. "Jim...how long until they find us?"

Jim looked at the watch on his wrist. The phosphorescent dial glowed even in this depth of darkness. "Five hours."

Blair was silent for a moment. Then he said quietly, "That's...too long. Isn't it?"

Jim held his breath. Blair had spoken the words he, Jim, was afraid to utter. But now he had to tell the truth. "I think it is. I can't see any light in here at all, so the explosions have sealed the tunnel. There was a fireball - that burned a lot of the oxygen out of the air - I don't know how much. I...I can tell the air is stale in here but not how bad it is. But I think...I think if I can't shift some of that rock, we might be dead."

Blair absorbed all of that in silence. "If we do get out of this...I'm gonna enjoy telling the Feds how much this plan sucked."

Trust Blair to look on the bright side. "Well, Sandburg, the alternative was letting them kill you. We knew they'd double cross us. It was a calculated risk."

"Oh, that's great, man! Just great! So now - "

There was one sure way to end an argument with Sandburg. Jim kissed him. He swallowed the last few words Sandburg uttered and blocked the rest by thrusting his tongue into Blair's mouth.

Blair reached up with one hand, gripping the back of Jim's head, holding him in the kiss. It was an awkward position for Jim, bent double over his partner, but he didn't care. This could be the last time he would kiss Blair. The thought made him deepen the kiss, ignoring the developing crick in his neck, putting all the love and gratitude he felt into that endless moment.

"Wow," Blair whispered as Jim raised his head.

Jim smiled, though he knew Blair couldn't see it. "I love you," he whispered.

Blair pulled him into another kiss. "Me too, Jim." He breathed softly against Jim's cheek. "Do you realise how long it's been since we said that?"

"I didn't think it needed saying."

"It doesn't. I just mean...every time we arrange a romantic evening or a weekend away...or just some 'us' time...someone gets murdered, or a drug bust goes bad, or some bank gets blown up..."

"It's been a hectic year, hasn't it?"

"Yeah."

"We _need_ to get out of here, partner."

Blair groaned as he tried to shift position. "Mustn't move," he muttered. "Let's start with your senses, Jim. Go through them one by one. It will give us a sense of the environment."

"Okay." Jim was more than willing to follow Blair's lead on this.

"Sight."

"I'm as good as blind. The only light in here is my watch dial."

"I figured. Taste?"

Jim smiled again. "All I can taste is you, lover."

He could almost _hear_ Blair smiling, but he made no comment. "Smell?"

Jim took a deep breath through his nose, sorting through the various scents. And another. "I smell blood. And RDX from the explosions. Smoke." He could also smell Blair's fear, an acrid edge to his sweat, but Jim didn't mention that.

"Is it still burning?"

"It can't be, there was nothing combustible in the mine shaft."

"What about touch?"

Jim hesitated. Then he moved away from Blair and began to pull his t-shirt out of his pants.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking off my shirt. So I can feel with my skin." He dropped the shirt and waited, dialling his sense of touch up as far as he could. "God...there's a lot of dust in the air, still falling. It's cold...but no draught. Nothing."

"So no air," Blair concluded, and now his voice sounded tight, telling Jim he was fighting the pain. "We knew that. What can you hear, man?"

The ringing aftermath of the explosions had faded and Jim could hear normally again. "Not much. Nothing outside. They must be gone." He concentrated harder, seeking the smaller sounds, and heard the small stresses in the rock, the crack of stone no longer stable all around them. It was just like the collapsing walls at the race track a few years earlier...only a matter of time before the mine collapsed.

"Doesn't look good, does it?" Blair whispered.

"I'd say we have two choices. We lie down, keep still, conserve the air we've got and hope Simon finds us before the air runs out. Or I try to dig our way out...but that risks bringing this whole tunnel down on top of us. And the exertion would use up the air even faster."

Blair's breathing was becoming ragged. "Plan C?"

"I'm listening."

"Try...the...tunnel." He moaned in pain.

"No. I'm not leaving you, Chief." Jim stood and walked over to the wall of fallen rock. He reached above his head, setting his hand softly on the ceiling. He could feel the minute vibrations in the rock. It confirmed what he could hear. "The tunnel is unstable. I'm afraid if I try..."

Blair's moan interrupted him.

"Blair, how bad is it?" Jim asked. It wasn't like Blair to vocalise pain so obviously. It had to be bad.

Blair uttered a grunt that was meant to be a laugh. "Got any...aspirin on you?"

"No." Jim sat down beside Blair again. "You're the expert in this stuff, Sandburg. What about that technique you taught me? Visualise a dial for the pain?"

"I'm...not...a sentinel, Jim."

"No, but that's not where you learned it. Give it a try." He waited for Blair's assent, then shifted position so he could hold Blair's head in his lap. "Deep breath, Chief." He stroked his lover's hair gently. Every word he spoke was using up their precious air but he had to do it. Couldn't let Blair suffer. "Put everything else out of your mind. It works best for me if I concentrate on the problem first." He found his voice falling into the slow, steady rhythm Blair used for these visualisations. "So feel that pain. Localise it, know exactly what hurts and why." He stroked Blair's forehead, a gentle caress. How completely Blair had changed his life! He couldn't imagine his life without Blair in it. Not any longer. "Have you got it?"

He felt Blair nod. "Okay. Now visualise that dial. See it clearly in your mind. It controls the pain. You can do it, Chief. Just like you taught me. Dial it down. Dial it down..."

Blair's breathing was steadier. "Thanks, man. That's better."

"It worked?"

"Still hurts...not as much." He reached up to Jim. "How's the air? Can you tell?"

"Not good." He glanced at his watch again. Four hours, thirty five minutes. If Blair were okay Jim would try to get through the rubble. But there was significant risk of bringing the roof down. If that happened and Blair couldn't run...

Help _was_ coming. Jim touched his belt where the GPS transmitter was located. He felt the subtle buzz of electricity that reassured him it was still working. Would help come soon enough? That was the question.

"Jim...there is one other thing...might help the pain..."

"Anything I can do," Jim answered at once.

"Endorphins."

"In English, Einstein."

"Wh-when you're injured...you get an...adrenaline rush...natural defence..."

"Fight or flight response." Jim didn't need to see to know Blair was smiling at that. Jim actually remembered something.

"Yeah...but for...longer...endurance...you have endorphins...like when you exercise..."

"How does that help you now, Chief? Exercise will make you breathe harder, use up our air."

"I...know..."

"So...?"

"Sex."

"My hearing must be fried. Did you just say sex?"

"Orgasm...releases endorphins...Jim..."

"Are you _serious_?"

Blair didn't answer.

Even if Blair was right, sex was exertion. It would use up the air as fast as, if not faster than, exercise. On the other hand...

Jim leaned down to kiss Blair. "If we're gonna die, let's go out the best way. Is that it?"

"We're...not...gonna die."

Jim ran his fingers over Blair's lips. "You're crazy. And I love you for it." He licked Blair's lips, tasting him. There was dust and ash on his skin and beneath that the taste that was uniquely Blair.

Blair's hand came up, caressing Jim's arm and his still-bare chest.

Jim caught Blair's hand, moving it away. "No, Chief, let me do this for you. No exertion, remember?"

He slid his hands into the neck of Blair's shirt, then shifted position slightly so he could lean over Blair's body. It was almost a 69 position, one of Jim's knees on each side of Blair's neck. He leaned forward slowly, reaching out with his left hand to find a place to steady himself against the floor. Finding a firm handhold he found the buckle of Blair's belt with his right hand. He undid the belt easily, opened the button and unzipped Blair's pants.

Blair's cock was limp. Jim was not surprised. It wasn't easy to get hard when you were in the kind of pain Blair must be feeling, no matter how sexy you felt.

Jim stroked Blair's cock firmly, the flesh warm and pliant in his palm. He enjoyed the feel of Blair when he was soft. When they made love Jim was usually too tired, after, to fully indulge this particular fetish. Now he could... He squeezed Blair and heard him sigh in reaction. Jim bent lower to taste.

With no further preliminaries, he took the whole of Blair's cock into his mouth. He was warm and smelled of rich musk and sweat...and blood. Pushing the smell of blood out of his mind, Jim sucked hard on the flesh filling his mouth. He felt Blair begin to swell.

Blair's hands moved up Jim's thighs, deliberately distracting.  Jim responded by sucking harder, sliding his free hand into Blair's pants to cup his balls. He knew Blair's body so well, knew every scent and taste, every fold of skin. Yet every time he did this, Jim discovered something new. A small patch of rough skin just behind Blair's testicles. Jim rubbed the spot, his fingertips memorising every bump and ridge. He released Blair's cock from his mouth and strained to lean just a little further forward, to lick the small patch of skin he had discovered.

Blair squeezed Jim's cock through the thick denim, then reached for his zipper. Jim didn't try to stop him.

Jim could only just reach that spot with his tongue, just enough to enjoy the taste and texture. He then went back to his original task. Blair was fully erect now, his hips jerking involuntarily as Jim went down on him. He held Blair's hips down, worried for his wounded leg. Jim was so turned on, loving the feel of Blair's thick cock in his mouth, the salt of the rounded head, the musky smell, the silk-over-hardwood texture of the skin he sucked. He thrust into Blair's hands. He took Blair as deeply as he could, sucking hard. He could hear Blair's breathing getting faster and a moment later Blair came with a cry, gushes of semen filling Jim's throat. He swallowed and raised his head, biting his own lip hard as his own orgasm hit, splashing his chest and Blair's hands with hot come.

For a moment, all Jim's strength was gone. He stayed where he was, his head hanging down. Then he slowly raised himself up. He zipped Blair's pants, left the belt alone. He straightened, zipped his own pants and lay down beside Blair, taking his lover, partner and best friend into his arms.

"How do you feel?"

"Fucking great!" It was just a whisper.

Jim looked at his watch. Four hours, fifteen minutes. "Lie still, Chief. Sleep if you can - it will use less air."

"'Kay."

Jim took his own advice, feeling Blair's warmth along the length of his body. He tried to relax. Four hours, fourteen minutes.

They would make it.

*

#### 4 hours, 45 minutes later

It was the sound of machinery that woke him. Machinery, and voices. The sounds were muffled, but real.

Relief flooded him.

He reached for his partner. "They're here," he tried to say. "We made it." It came out as a dry croak.

There was no response.

He shifted to lay his head on his lover's chest. He strained to hear, to feel. There was no heartbeat.

_If we're gonna die..._

He lay back on the rubble strewn floor. Pain overwhelmed him. He might have cried. He didn't care.

Rescue didn't matter any more.

Three minutes later, the tunnel roof collapsed.


End file.
